"He's got the order." "Three pounds thirteen or out you go," the man announced, pushing his way forward.

"Here's the paper." David Ross looked at him as one awakened from a dream.
"Evicted!" "And d--d well time, too!" the newcomer continued.

"You've had all the chance in the world.

How do you expect to make a living, fiddling about here all day with pencil and paper, and talking Socialist rot at night?
Leave that chair alone and be off, both of you." They glanced despairingly towards Aaron Thurnbrein.

He thrust his hands into his pockets and exposed them with a little helpless gesture.